


Who the Hell Blows Up Women in the Middle of the Night?! by Percy Jackson

by AyeletSita



Series: The Politics of Being a Demigod [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, He is not a Demigod, Percy is a Wizard, Things are a bit confusing, sorry - Freeform, you'll have to deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyeletSita/pseuds/AyeletSita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy was woken in the middle of the night by a screaming bracelet. He wished he could say that was an unusual occurrence but it really wasn't. At least he was alone so no one else was woken up by it. During his time in Hogwarts he used to cast a silencing charm on his bed nets so his roommates wouldn't be woken up but that was a long time ago (just a bit over two years, really, but it seemed like forever).<br/>Grunting, Percy rose from his comfy bed and started dressing up, still half asleep. Why did monsters insist on attacking in the middle of the night? Don't they ever sleep?<br/>He tapped his bracelet once with the tip of his wand. The damn thing stopped screaming and Percy waited until the emergency was stated. He expected a monster, some muggle-hunting or perhaps a good old bar fight but no.<br/>Who the hell blew up a woman in the middle of the night?!<br/>AU\AW</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who the Hell Blows Up Women in the Middle of the Night?! by Percy Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> This story is probably pretty weird read as it is, technically, part of a long fic where you actually get to understand stuff but I don't really feel like writing all of it. Instead, I'm going to publish the interesting parts of it and let you be confused, hope you like it anyway!  
> Just a couple of details, this is an AW fic - all wizards\witches (I'm not entirely sure that's a real thing but now it is) which means Percy isn't a demigod, he is a wizard (although the name of the series is a bit misleading when you think about it). He's going to explain himself some of these stuff so I won't talk about it now. All you need to know is that this is an AU (obviously) and Percy still managed to find himself a monster-fighting life. I'll probably post more stories in this universe soon enough.  
> P.S sorry for any mistakes (British\American or just plain grammer), I hope it's not too bad.

_August 16 th, 1993._

Percy was woken in the middle of the night by a screaming bracelet. He wished he could say that was an unusual occurrence but it really wasn't. At least he was alone so no one else was woken up by it. During his time in Hogwarts he used to cast a silencing charm on his bed nets so his roommates wouldn't be woken up but that was a long time ago (just a bit over two years, really, but it seemed like forever).  
Grunting, Percy rose from his comfy bed (well, compared to the outside of it) and started dressing up, still half asleep. Why did monsters insist on attacking in the middle of the night? Don't they ever sleep?  
He didn't bother to brush his teeth (which he'd probably regret later) and tapped his bracelet once, instead, with the tip of his wand. The damn thing stopped screaming and started dictating coordinates instead. Percy ignored them, as the bracelet could guide him there on its own, and waited until the emergency was stated. He expected a monster, some muggle-hunting or perhaps a good old bar fight but no.  
Who the hell blew up a woman in the middle of the night?!

Marjorie Dursley was not a pleasant woman. It was bad enough that Percy had to fly to reach her (Percy always hated flying, just like every other Poseidon in the past couple of centuries. It had something to do with an old curse, cast by some Zeus bloke centuries ago. It was mostly harmless, but annoying as hell) but even then the woman continued to fight him off.  
In the end, Percy succeed in taking hold on the woman (who really looked more like a balloon at this point) and guide his broom with his free hand back to the ground. The woman fought and cursed. Some of the things she said nearly made Percy blush, and he was no stranger to foul language.  
When they finally reached the ground she tried to run away (and was almost shot back to the sky) but Percy's hold of her was strong enough.  
"Finite Incantatem," casted Percy, no enthusiasm in his voice. He was tired, annoyed, his breath was stinking and he really just wanted to go home. Besides, he couldn't count the number of times he used the common counter spell since he first turned eleven. Why did so many people casted so many stupid spells, jinxes and curses?  
By the time the people from the DMLE, the people who were actually paid for doing this job, arrived, Percy already knew way too much about Marge Dursley. She bred dogs, she had a good for nothing nephew, she was racist, she had a good for nothing nephew, she'd been visiting her brother before the… incident, she had a good for nothing nephew, she hated him (as in Percy, although she didn't know his name yet), she had a good for nothing nephew, it was all his fault and, surprisingly enough, she had a good for nothing nephew.  
"She's all yours," said Percy tiredly to Roberts as he and his partner approached. The middle aged man threw a quick glance toward the muggle woman before nodding in sympathy.  
"We'll take care of it," he promised the younger wizard. Percy knew Roberts for about seven years at this point. He knew he could trust him (even when he was just a kid) which was essential in Percy's line of work. If you could actually call it work. As mentioned before, he wasn't actually getting paid.  
"Ma'am," managed Percy to say to the unpleasant woman. "Can you please tell me your nephew's name?" The woman snared.  
"That boy!" she snared, somehow making the word "boy" into an insult. "I told Vernon to throw him away! Potter is his name, Harry Potter!"  
Percy groaned. Of course Harry Potter had to live in his jurisdiction and of course he had to blow up his apparently muggle aunt. Why had he never heard that the Boy Who Lived was living in his territory? His father probably didn't thought it was important. Well, it seemed as if he had to clean up this mess, as usual.  
"Do you know where Potter lives?" Percy asked Roberts as his partner (a witch Percy didn't know) led Marge away.  
"No one does," replied the wizard, scratching his neck. "You should stay out of this, the Minister himself asked us to take care of this matter quietly."  
"Well, my territory, my rules." Roberts didn't bother to point out this wasn't actually Percy's territory. It was his dad's, Lord Poseidon, and when he died it would go to his heir, Triton. Percy was never even recognized officially as a Poseidon. Then again, he was the one standing there, in the middle of the night while his dear father and brother took a nap.  
"Take care, Jackson," said Roberts simply.  
"You too," answered Percy before disapparating away.

Normally, Percy would go back home after an incident such as this but now he had to check the records to find out where Harry Potter lived, and they were all at the Poseidon Manor. He could put that off till tomorrow, but he had already tons of meeting scheduled for the day and he really didn't want to have tasks left for the day after that.  
So that's the story of how Percy found himself tired (but free of mouth breath thanks to a refreshment spell), apparating right in front of the Leaky Cauldron. The Poseidon Manor was protected against apparating; he'd have to use the floo. He could've done that from home, but he'd rather get a cup of coffee before and his apartment's kitchen was as empty as one can be.  
"Minister!" exclaimed Percy, surprised. But yes, on the sidewalk in front of the pub stood none other than the Minster of Magic. The not-so-thin wizard looked alarmed when Percy called his title. He looked around a couple of time before his gaze fell on Percy (the only person to actually stand on the pavement next to him at this ungodly hour of the night).  
"Oh, hello, young man, I'm afraid I'm quite busy right now," he said, distracted. Now, one might think the Minster of Magic would make a habit of knowing important – or potentially important – people such a Percy Jackson but Fudge was never the sharpest tool in the shed. The why he saw it, there were many bastard children out there of one of The Twelve; there was no need to memorize all of their faces and names.  
"Is everything alright?" asked Percy, remembering Roberts' words earlier, the Minster himself ordered the matter to be taken care of. Percy really couldn't think about a reason for the wizard to be so nervous. Yes, the lack of control of the supposed savior of the wizarding world was unfortunate but it was hardly an important matter.  
"Oh! Finally, it's here!" said the minister, relief clear in his voice. Percy spent most of his childhood (and by childhood he meant the eleven years he got before going to Hogwarts) in New York City so he didn't think much about the wild bus until he stopped in front of them. Traffic in London wasn't the quietest thing out there and it certainly didn't draw his attention easily. Now, that it stopped, Percy recognized in as the Knight Bus, one of the most questionable means of transportation in the wizarding world.  
"There you are, Harry," said Fudge. And there he was. Harry Potter was a short boy with (very) messy dark hair. He made his way slowly out of the Knight Bus, helping the conductor with his suitcase (and empty owl cage. Of course Harry Potter owned an owl, he was Harry Potter!)  
Now, Percy would have like to stick around and ask Harry a couple of questions (like, why the hell did he feel the need to turn his aunt into a helium balloon in the middle of the night) but after nearly a decade of "family duties" he knew better than interrupting the Minster of Magic. He'd have his turn later. After all, one did not come to the Leaky Cauldron in the middle of the night without the intention of staying over.  
With that in mind, Percy retreated into the pub ("Blimey! Ern, come ’ere! Come ’ere!") And started calculating how much he is going to waste by staying for the night.

Tom, the landlord, was the probably the oldest man Percy knew (perhaps even older than Dumbledore himself) and was usually a nice company. Right now, however, he tiptoed around the door, obviously waiting for the Minster and Potter, and barely noticed Percy coming in.  
"Tom?" asked Percy, drawing the elder's attention. "I need a room for the night; can you put it on my tab?" The wizard barely looked at him.  
"Of course! Of course! Room eight is empty, the key is over there," he said quickly, before the door opened again. "You’ve got him, Minister!" he said excitedly as Percy made his move toward the keys, hanging on some hook by the bar. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"  
Percy shot a quick look at the youngest wizard in the room, who seemed quite miserable and barely even noticed him, before going to his room. He hoped Potter wasn't going to sleep till late, his first meeting was at ten o'clock.

Percy got the sleep for the rest of the night but unsurprisingly he woke up at 7AM, no matter how many hours of sleep he got. It really wasn't fair. He brushed his teeth (which was a nice relief) and attempted to tame his hair (it really didn't feel like looking half-decent today, which made Percy reconsider Frank's offer of getting a short haircut) before going down to eat something. He didn't have any cloths to change to, so Mr. Pollin (his first meeting of the day) would just have to deal with T-shirt and jeans, slightly muffled by the night.  
He hoped to visit Gringotts before Potter would come down and withdraw some money so he could pay for the room. Leaky Cauldron wasn't a very expensive place, but Percy was hardly a wealthy man. It'd be better to close off his debts as soon as possible.  
Now, imagine his surprise when none other than Harry Potter was already sitting by the bar, eating bacon. Carefully, Percy sat down next to the young teen and ordered some pancakes for himself.  
"Hi," he said, using all of his friendliness. "I'm Percy Jackson." Potter looked at him carefully. He was pale, but it really wasn't an unusual thing when one lived his entire life in England.  
"Harry," said Harry eventually, shaking the hand that was offered to him. "Harry Potter."  
"I know," said Percy while Tom put his plate of pancakes in front of him. "I was here when you came last night." It wasn't a lie, really.  
"Oh," said Harry, uncertain. "I'm sorry; I don't think I've noticed you." Percy took a bite of his food.  
"It's okay," he said, mouth still full. His mom would have been angry at him for being so impolite but really, Percy was sure the kid didn't care. He swallowed the pancake. "I heard you had a rough night."  
Harry didn't meet his eyes. "You have?"  
"Don't worry," Percy said quickly. "It wasn't on the news or something."  
"Then how do you know?" asked Harry. He sounded worried, scared even. Percy wondered how much this kid has suffered by the hands of the rumors so far. He was a Gryffindor, after all.  
"I was the one to ah… Restore you aunt," explained Percy before taking another bite.  
"You work for the Department of Accidental Magic Reversal?" asked Harry, excitement hidden in his voice. Percy really didn't see what was so exciting about a bunch of people that only ever used two spells (Finite Incantatem and Obliviate) but everyone had their owns weirdness, he was hardly one to judge.  
"Oh, no, of course not," he said, almost amused.  
"Then why…?" asked Harry, confused.  
"My dad's is Lord Poseidon and his heir is a lazy ass," explained Percy while shrugging. Technically, he wasn't supposed to say things like that in public, definitely not to important people like Harry Potter, but really, it was hardly a secret.  
"I'm sorry; I don't understand what that has to do with anything," said Harry, a bit embarrassed.  
"Well, your Aunt was on Poseidon's lands, or more accurately, in Poseidon's air-zone, so it was our responsibility-" Percy stopped talking. Harry obviously had no idea what he's talking about. "Have you ever heard about The Twelve?" he asked. The young boy shook his head slowly. He suddenly seemed very small; his eyes big and green behind his glasses.  
Percy knew of course that the boy was supposedly raised by muggles but he was sure someone explained to him the way Magical Britain worked. He was an important persona after all.  
"The Twelve," he said gently. "Or The Olympians are the twelve most important families in Magical Britain." Harry's eyes widened with shock.  
"Almost every part of the UK belongs to one of them. They are like patrons of the people living there, the lord protects the people from muggles, monsters and themselves and in return they pay taxes to him, or her, really."  
"Monsters?" was Harry's first question.  
"Magical beasts," said Percy and rolled his eyes. No one actually used the correct term after fighting the bastards. "You're going to learn about them this year, right?" Harry nodded carefully.  
"Am I in trouble?" he asked after a long moment of silence.  
"I don't know, are you?" asked Percy.  
"You're an important person, and you're talking to me," he pointed out. Percy chuckled and cut himself another piece of pancake.  
"You are an important person, Harry," he told the boy. "I'm the bastard child of Lord Poseidon and an American muggle." The boy's eyes widened by the confession. "I just want to make sure this was a onetime thing, I'm not exactly your aunt's biggest fan but it is my job to protect muggles from witches and wizards in my territory."  
"It won't happen again, sir," vowed Harry.  
"Dude, how old do you think I am?" asked Percy, amused. Harry blushed and didn't answer. "I'm twenty, in case you were wondering, or at least I will be in two days."  
"Happy birthday, si- I mean, eh…"  
"Percy," finished Percy.  
"Yes, I'm sorry, it's a bit weird, my best friend's brother's name is Percy," said Harry awkwardly.  
"Percy Weasley?" asked Percy. Harry nodded. "I've gone to school with his brother. You must be talking about the youngest kid, right?"  
"Ron," confirmed Harry. "He's the youngest boy, Ginny is the youngest." Percy nodded.  
"Ooh, I remember this girl, be careful of her, she once broke Charlie's hand," warned Percy, a smile plastered on his face. Harry didn't look too convinced. "Well, I'm pretty sure there was a lot of teasing involved on his behalf, and it was accidental magic, but still, never underestimate a girl that can break your arm!"  
"Sounds like a good advice," said Harry after a moment. It was obvious that the boy felt uncomfortable but was too polite to leave Percy. The older wizard considered leaving the Gryffindor alone but he still had time until his meeting and he wanted to finish with this task permanently.  
"Speaking of accidental magic was that what happened with your aunt?" Probably not his smoothest line; but at least Grover wasn't there to tease him about it. Harry played with what was left of his breakfast.  
"Yes," he admitted guiltily. "But the Minister said it was alright!"  
"I'm not judging," reassured him Percy. "You should've seen I've did to my mom's fridge once, we all lose control from time to time."  
"But you said it before, it's you job to make sure-"  
"That no one abuses muggles, not that kids won't screw up. It happens; it's not a big deal. Do you think it'd happen again?" Percy was good with kids. He liked kids, he knew how to talk with kids and he was one of the rare men out there who could actually imagine themselves with kids. Unfortunately, Harry was not a kid, not really.  
"No, I promise," he said hastily.  
"I won't be mad," promised Percy. "I'd like to help."  
"Why?" asked Harry, a bit rudely.  
"Well, for once, you are a wizard in my territory and as one I'm obligated to help you. Besides, it would be nice if for once my dad wouldn't be totally mad at me," he said and chuckled. Harry seemed confused.  
"Why would you dad care about you helping me?" he asked.  
"My dad hates everything I do," said Percy. "I help the wrong people, antagonize the wrong people, date the wrong people but you, you're the Boy Who Lived." Harry looked at him with shock and tint of betrayal.  
"Now," said Percy quickly. "I know that's kind of bullshit, I mean, no offense but you were a baby and everything, but most people that were raised in the wizarding world don't think like this. One day, you'd be a very important figure in politics."  
"So you want to use me," said Harry, his voice hollow.  
"No!" protested Percy. "I want to help you because I'm an idiot; I just say I might actually gain something in return." Harry looked at him suspiciously. Percy sighed. He really should be more careful with what he's saying.  
"I'll just leave now; just know you can send me a letter whenever you need it. Percy Jackson, I don't have any wards, your owl should find me. Have a nice summer, Harry," he said and stood up.  
"Thanks," said Harry, not entirely convinced. "It was nice to meet you." Percy nodded at him once before exiting the pub.  
Well, that could've gone better but really, it's not like he was trying to become Minister of Magic. Everything would be fine (or as fine as things could be in the wizarding world) either way. Anyway, that is a worry for another day. Right now Percy had to go to Gringotts, pay to Tom and go meet a Mr. Pollin.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you feel like it, thank you!


End file.
